


Collision

by Ghost (PoisonedDeath)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:45:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedDeath/pseuds/Ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We slide. We collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collision

We slide.  
We collide.

We're hopeless, we're hiding. Our hidden life sheltered by lie upon lie, fake smile upon cheeky wink and a truckload of bullshit. We appreciate what we're lucky enough to have, but, as we suffer from the disease known only as 'humanity', we crave everything we cannot obtain. We crawl out of our shells in character, a pathetic pantomime existence that we have condemned ourselves to. Yesteryear's lovers have grown older and colder, star-crossed lovers douse themselves in the cheapest of perfumes; a whore's scent at best. My lover wears a crest on his chest with pride. He shoots. He scores. Macabre Cupid has me wrapped around his little finger. Abomination. Sin. Disgusting. Beautiful. So much beauty comes from our pain, the life we hide. A shameful game. I only want to understand why it seems that love may not be enough to convince us to keep breathing on. I think that I may know. We're being suffocated by our lies and total asphyxiation isn't too far off. I wear a crest on my chest with pride, chasing after the ball, chasing dreams of winning the league. Chasing dreams of him. I shoot. I miss. Way off target, but he's holding me, telling me to keep my head up high. It's fine to fail because I'm here. I love you. It's okay. And due to his words, a smile begins to grow on my chewed lips. Impossible dreams of trophies and tolerance can smother us, but they are only dreams. They are hope and they are waste. They are light and dark, heaven and hell. He is the heaven to my living hell. And I'm lucky enough to be able to call him mine. We can keep breathing, fighting, struggling. We wear crests on our chests with pride, and at night, we make love and fall asleep in each other's arms.

We slide.  
We collide.


End file.
